


Reap and Sow

by Yessica



Series: Whumptober 2020 Yessica Edition [2]
Category: InuYasha - A Feudal Fairy Tale
Genre: Aftermath of Torture, Angst, Angst with a Happy Ending, Blood Loss, Emotional Hurt/Comfort, Gen, Kidnapping, Major Character Injury, Pick who dies, Whipping, Whumptober 2020
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-02
Updated: 2020-10-20
Packaged: 2021-03-07 19:40:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,297
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26773057
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Yessica/pseuds/Yessica
Summary: Inuyasha and Miroku get into some trouble on their own, and pay the price for it.(Whumptober days 2, 10 and 20)
Relationships: InuYasha & Miroku (InuYasha)
Series: Whumptober 2020 Yessica Edition [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1949233
Comments: 5
Kudos: 13
Collections: Whumptober 2020





	1. Pick Who Dies

**Author's Note:**

  * For [zehecatl](https://archiveofourown.org/users/zehecatl/gifts).



Their smiles were sharp, painful. Any other day, Inuyasha would not have had a single issue wiping those smirks of any human's face, especially ones as disgusting and horrifying as them.

But it was not any other day. It was night – the sky was dark and vast and _moonless_. And Inuyasha was shoved onto his knees, helpless to fight back against two pairs of hands pushing him down, keeping him in place. One fist twisted into his black hair and pulled his head back, forcing him to stare their leader in the face as he made his taunts.

"Not so impressive now, are we?" the human asked rhetorically. he was twirling a flashy, ornate dagger around in his fingers. It wasn't the type of weapon usually handled by low-borns, so Inuyasha knew he must have stolen it somewhere. Maybe from a lord their gang had jumped long ago, just as they had tried to jump Inuyasha and the others. Scum like this always went for the easy hanging fruit and travelers were seen as straightforward targets, if they did not have a huge caravan with them.

They could not have been more mistaken.

Inuyasha could have probably handled them by himself even, but with the others there these humans were nothing compared to the small fry youkai they dealt with on a daily basis. Right now the only thing Inuyasha regretted was not killing them when he had the chance. When evening fell, they had to split up to make camp and settle in for the most unpleasant night of the month.

And so the three of them were ambushed and dragged off at the worst possible time.

He glanced at Miroku, in a similar position as him and with blood streaming down the side of his face, leaving dark patches on his robes. He looked unconcerned, but Inuyasha knew that was just the monk putting up a front. Kagome too was doing her best to look calm, she had to endure so much ever since coming to his world she might just be getting used to situations like these. But her eyes locked onto his face and he could see how this specific situation could rapidly get out of hand if he didn't do something soon.

Not for the first time, he cursed the moon cycle and its shitty timing.

"You're a half-blood then, huh?" He tuned in to the guy's blabbering just in time to hear him throw the regular insults. Like that wasn't a slight Inuyasha had heard hundredfold since birth. He growled low in his throat and the man scowled down at him, crouching in front of him. "You disgust me-"

He was interrupted by Inuyasha spitting in his face. He snarled, a low primal noise, and lashed out with the dagger. It made a clean cut across Inuyasha's cheek – one that his youkai blood would have healed instantly had he not been human tonight. But he didn't even flinch.

"Fuck you!" he threw back.

The man stared at him for a moment, eyes narrowed as if he was calculating something. Then an ugly grin spread across his face, and it instantly sent unease pooling in Inuyasha's gut. He straightened himself slowly, stretching out his spine in unbearable increments, and when he turned around he smiled even wider.

His eyes landed on the other two and that unease quickly turned into outright nausea.

"How about this then, boy," the leader started – and drew out that last word in a way that particularly sent shivers down Inuyasha's back. "We'll have some fun with you, but we'll keep one of your friends around. Make sure you don't get lonely."

It was hard to see in the dark, but the comment sent a round of vile laughter through the rest of the men. With slow strides, the leader approached Kagome and cupped her chin in one hand, tilting her head to the side for an appraising look. "I'd prefer the pretty one, of course. I'm dying to know what she looks like under those strange clothes."

Kagome barely made a sound, but the way her shoulders hunched in on themselves was telltale enough. If Inuyasha hadn't already wanted to rip these bastards throats out and shove them up their asses, this would have been sure to do it. Before he even could get a word in, Miroku spoke up.

"I don't think that's a very good idea."

The leader grunted, letting go of Kagome in favor of getting in the monk's face. "And that matters because?"

"Well, even people such as you probably harbor respect for the Gods, I'd assume," Miroku said. "The lady is a Miko. It will not do to treat her like this if you fear the afterlife."

Which was probably the biggest load of horseshit Inuyasha's ever heard. But Miroku wasn't stupid. An idiot, yes, but not stupid. Inuyasha knew exactly what he was getting at, and hated it more than anything. Miroku was always so quick to put his own life on the line.

The men however were not as attuned to the monk's tricks. A few glances were exchanged between them, and two started talking in hushed whispers. It almost looked like they were seriously considering their mortal prospects. Then, a fist was slammed into Miroku's stomach.

"Are you really that much of an idiot?" The man laughed as Miroku curled in on himself, coughing. He planted one foot on his shoulders, pressing him harder into the ground. "If we feared the Gods we wouldn't be doing this in the first place."

Inuyasha pushed against the hands holding him down harder, but no matter how much he tried he was unable to shake them off. The leader kicked Miroku in the face – the resulting crack unbearably loud in the clearing – and blood started pouring from his broken nose.

More laugher broke out in the other bandits, Kagome left out a soft whimper and the noise pulled the leader's attention back to her. Inuyasha could not afford to wait for whatever he had in mind.

"I'll do it," he said, raising his head to look at the man who had turned halfway to face him. "I'll choose, if it gets you off or some shit."

Ignoring the quip, the man walked towards him, a smile showing just slightly too much teeth. "Wised up, have you?"

Inuyasha didn't say anything. He exhaled slowly and heavily through his nose, a breath he hadn't noticed he was holding inside his lungs until it started hurting.

With a short laugh, the man bent down in front of him once more – this time pushing the dagger right against Inuyasha's throat. He felt the sharp edge quiver against his skin. "One or the other now," the man said lowly, like it was a secret only they could share. "They'll run free and then we can play."

The instinct to tear into this human – to bite or scratch or somehow do _something_ – was almost overwhelming. Instead, Inuyasha bit his tongue, dull incisors not even strong enough to draw blood anymore. "I'm just supposed to take your word for it?" he asked.

"Either that or I could kill all three of you, your pick."

His eyes darted past the man, at Kagome trying to keep strong, keep her head up. And Miroku, still on the ground with blood all over him but somehow looking Inuyasha straight in the face. He swallowed. "Don't fucking touch her."

Glancing over his shoulder, the leader shrugged. "You're lucky I'm a man of his word, boy. Pity that." His dagger was still posed perfectly against Inuyasha's throat, but with his free hand, he gestured at his underlings. There was a moment's hesitation before they hauled Kagome to her feet. With a sly smirk, he addressed her, "Go now little bird. We'll be done before you get back."

Kagome wasn't moving, frozen in either fear or inaction. Inuyasha knew she would do anything to help them, but right now all he needed was for her to be safe. "Get Sango-" he said, before being cut off by the dagger pressing more firmly against his skin.

She nodded before running off, and when none of the men made to follow her Inuyasha knew that somehow he had made the right choice.

"As promised," the man gloated, pulling back a bit. His breath stunk of sour meat and sake. "Now it's our turn. I know somewhere nice."

Before Inuyasha could even decipher what that meant, another punch hit the side of his head, plunging the world into darkness.


	2. Blood Loss

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Miroku has a hard time.

By now his throat had become raw from screaming.

Another blow hit Miroku's back, the pain both searing and distant at the same time. As much as it hurt, his skin was already torn up beyond belief from the many welts, the thin whip coming down on him again and again. He pulled against the ropes that bound his wrists in front of him, chafing the harsh fibers into shallow burn wounds but it was better than sitting still.

How long had this been going on? How much longer could it last? Miroku had lost track of time between their hits, their cruel laughs, but it must have been hours. They relished this in a way that was more inhumane than they claimed most youkai to be.

They had started with Inuyasha, roughed him up a little, but either they decided his reactions weren't satisfying enough – Inuyasha barely made a sound as they came down on him – or they had wanted to keep him aware enough to witness their next whim.

Miroku couldn't see him, sat on his knees with his front facing the wall. Behind him, Inuyasha would be getting a full view of the injuries being inflicted on him. The next blow was almost hard enough to send him to the ground, weren't it for the rough hands holding onto his shoulders, making sure their leader had the perfect canvas to work with.

He clenched his jaw, trying not to bite his tongue. He had no idea where they were, how far they had been taken. The men had knocked them both out as soon as they had let Kagome go – a small mercy at least. But when they had woken up they were in what could only decently be described as a shack. Mildew bent the wooden planks horribly out of shape and weather damage had caused several cracks in the walls and roof. It smelled like mold, sour. Metal tools worn by age hung on pegs or had fallen to the ground, but all of them were too rusted to salvage.

If Miroku had to venture a guess, he would assume it was a building once used by a farmer or hunter, since abandoned and rediscovered by these bandits who now came here whenever they needed to stay out of the rain. A convenient place to lay low and out of the public eye for a while.

Another strangled scream escaped him when the whip graced just below the nape of his neck, finding untouched flesh to dig into not yet numbed by the excess of strikes delivered there. He felt a hot trickle of blood against his throat, dripping over his shoulder blade. His reaction was rewarded with another round of laughter, but still no peep from Inuyasha. Miroku wished he could see his face, had something to focus on and wipe out all the rest.

Instead, he concentrated on the shard of night sky visible through a fracture in the roof. There was a faint blotting of stars, and as Miroku watched they became fainter still, as if being washed out slowly. He blinked at them – barely registered when another blow made his entire body shake with its effort to keep itself upright. The stars were fading.

The sun was rising.

Miroku smiled, the euphoria that washed over him almost enough to drown out the remaining pain still flooding his senses. His head was spinning, either from a rush of relief or the blood loss making him physically dizzy. They would only have to wait a few more minutes at best before the sun would rise fully. And soon Inuyasha's hanyou form would be restored, then all this torment would finally be over.

That stirring of hope was quickly dashed out when he felt those hands pull him over, shove him onto the ground roughly. Miroku yelped as his shoulder hit the ground first, tipping him to land on the fresh wounds littering his entire back. He curled into himself, tried to get up but his hands were still tied together making it hard to move. All he could do was roll onto his side, try and prevent the lesions from pressing into the floor. Through lidded eyes, he saw the leader approach Inuyasha.

"Show's over!" he said as he rounded on Inuyasha, still unbearably human. Miroku couldn't see Inuyasha's face, blotted out by the shape of the man between them and his long dark hair framing him. The leader pulled out his dagger from the sheath hung loosely around his waist. "Now I think we'll just kill you and be over with it. Kill your monk friend too and leave you somewhere to rot."

Miroku's heart practically leaped out of his chest. Part of him had surely been aware that this would be these people's end goal, that they weren't going to torture them for sport and then just wash their hands and walk away. Part of Miroku had known from the very start that they had intended to kill them when their cruel fancies were satisfied.

But an even bigger part had not believed that to be a real danger. Along his journey with Inuyasha, they had been in numerous perilous situations and never had they not made it out of the other side, tired and weary, blood dripping from their bodies, but _alive_. And Miroku had not considered this to be any different.

Until he saw the man with his dagger, elbow reeled back, and the blood ran cold in his veins.

"H-hey!" Despite the strain it put on his aching vocal cords Miroku forced himself to call out. All he had to do was buy them some time – just a handful of precious minutes. "Hey you!" The man stopped, the motion frozen half-way as if he was still deliberating wether to go through with it or not. Miroku felt desperation creep up his throat. "I'm talking to you, asshole."

That got his attention. The man reeled around, pressing the heels of his feet into the floor. In an instant he was grabbing Miroku by the hair, hauling him back onto his knees with incredibly strength. "What the fuck did you just say?"

"I said I'm talking to you." Miroku's head was full of the stench of this man's breath. His vision was getting blurry, soft around the edges. He could barely blink it back into clarity and swallowed.

Just a few more seconds, just a few more.

"What?!" The man was shaking him, only worsening the burning pain now slowly spreading from his back through his entire body. Miroku was becoming more aware of how much he hurt as he was released from the constant blows, finally allowing the pain to blossom to its full potential.

He only had to buy a few more seconds.

Taking all energy he had left inside his throbbing muscles, Miroku rocked back and delivered the best headbutt he could muster. It worked in that the man let go of him, making him fall back with another cry as he landed on his wounds. But the leader was cradling his affronted forehead, face turning red in embarrassment as his crew howled in laughter.

The man growled – just a few more seconds – drew his arm back – _just a few more seconds_ – and plunged the knife into Miroku's stomach.

An exhale escaped him when the blade pulled out again, the taste of iron in his throat slamming into him with unexpected force. Miroku had dropped to the ground when the man let go of him, turning around towards Inuyasha again. "That's what you get for being cheeky," he said.

Miroku coughed, blood against his lips now. He did not feel the pain yet, dulled by all the rest but he felt it leave him, ooze out of his stomach and onto the floor, and as he watched the puddle of red just kept spreading, like a flower unfurling its petals.

He closed his eyes, the world narrowing down to only that feeling, that warmth.

When he felt hands on his face he finally managed to return to the present. Inuyasha was hanging over him, intense amber eyes full of fire searching Miroku's face with urgency. His hair was white as winter snow. The sun had risen. Inuyasha's lips were moving, but Miroku had to make a conscious effort to even be able to decipher the words.

"-say something, you idiot." He tuned in just in time to hear Inuyasha say that to him, and Miroku forced a smile, still tasting the metallic tang of iron against his tongue.

"Took you long enough," he said.

Inuyasha huffed, but Miroku could tell by the way his pupils had dilated that he was worried. "Can you walk?" Inuyasha asked, but did not wait for an answer before he was already bracing his arms against Miroku's shoulder, trying to get him up but careful to avoid the damage on his back or the stab wound. Somewhere along the way, he had cut off the ropes binding Miroku's hands.

Miroku shook his head, ignoring how the room was spinning in slow circles. He simply refused to pass out. "Don't think so."

Inuyasha hesitated. His hands were warm, embers against Miroku's skin. "Fine then." He turned around, hauled Miroku's arms over his shoulders, and made him grab the front of his kimono. Miroku's fingers dug into the red fabric, felt the hard shape of Inuyasha beneath. Then he bent forward, grabbed Miroku's thighs, and with little to no effort lifted him up onto his back.

Miroku hissed under his breath as fresh pain shot through him from the wound on his stomach. But at least in this position, his back was getting a respite. Inuyasha adjusted him so he was easier to carry and Miroku sighed against the curve of his ear.

"Ready to go?" Inuyasha asked and all he could do was nod.

They set off into the forest, the foliage quickly becoming a blur around them. Miroku closed his eyes again, the motion only making him feel more lightheaded. He was losing blood quickly, dripping onto the ground.

A trail leading off to the place he would rather never see again.


	3. Lost

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Some progress is made

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that wraps it up! Thanks for reading

He had no fucking idea where they were.

The sun must have risen hours ago, the glare of it only serving to give Inuyasha a pounding headache. How far could they have been taken by those assholes? Did Kagome manage to find the others? There was no way for him to know. He scented the breeze, hoping to at least ascertain where the others were through smell. But all that he could detect was the overwhelming odor of blood coming from Miroku in waves.

Inuyasha stopped running for a moment to adjust the other on his back. Miroku hadn't moved or spoken for a while now, but he could feel his sluggish heartbeat through his kimono. Where Miroku's stomach rested against him was a sticky wet patch from the stab wound that had thankfully stopped bleeding a while ago. His head rested against Inuyasha's shoulder, forehead clammy with sweat and unbearably pale. Inuyasha swallowed away his worry.

There was no use in them running around aimlessly forever. Using his keen hearing to pick up on the sounds of a brook in the distance, Inuyasha swiftly made his way over and after making sure nobody else was around, he carefully put Miroku down against a large boulder.

Nobody was following them. Inuyasha knew this because nobody was left alive to do so. He made sure of it, the bodies left mangled and broken in the shed. Their torn flesh was still under his nails.

He took off his haori, spreading it out on the ground and then laying Miroku down on top of it. With the injuries caused by the whip, this would not be the best position and should the monk be conscious it would probably have hurt a lot. But right now the injury the blade had carved took precedent.

Miroku's outer clothes were in tatters, having taken the brunt of the abuse. Since they were also blood-stained Inuyasha did not hesitate in ripping them off completely. He could use the fabric in other ways, first soaking them in the river water before somewhat attempting to get Miroku clean. As he worked on wiping off his face, the other cracked his eyes open. When Inuyasha bandaged the wound as best as he was able to, Miroku hissed through his clenched teeth.

He tried to open his mouth to talk but it turned into a horrible coughing fit instead. Inuyasha helped him up into a better seating position, where Miroku's head lolled against his shoulder uselessly. The blood loss had made him weak and drained all color of his face, only making the dark circles of the sleepless night stand out even more starkly. Inuyasha feared that without proper medical attention he might die.

The mere thought caused another bold of nausea to run through him.

"W-water-" Miroku managed to croak. Inuyasha nodded but realized he didn't have anything that could be used as a vessel. He made Miroku brace his hands against the ground to stay upright, moving over the river to cup some cold water into his palms. It was an awkward way to get him to drink, but it worked.

With a grateful nod, Miroku sunk back to the ground exhausted. He winced when he put weight on his back, the many cuts caused by the whipping starting to scab over from dried blood and stray tissue. Slow blinks were all he could manage for now, but he licked his lips and tried to talk again.

"Where are we?"

Inuyasha grunted, rubbing against his forehead and scowling when he felt his own share of dried blood sticking to his face. He walked over to the river to wash up. "No fucking clue."

Miroku let out a small sigh. "Well, that's just great."

"It's fine." Inuyasha went back to his side and plopped down onto the ground in a cross-legged position. "We'll just rest for a bit and then we'll find the others."

"They'll be looking for us too," Miroku said mildly.

Inuyasha had not thought about that in his panic. As it was, it might just be faster to wait for the others to come and find them. Kirara should have no trouble tracking them down and with his current injuries, the less Miroku moved around the better.

The monk's eyes were half-lidded as he stared at the sky, blinking in slow stutters. He was probably hurting badly, but putting on that same brave face again. The thought made Inuyasha frown, doing his best to sit still – which was never his forte. Nervous energy strained on his every muscle and if he didn't do or say anything he might combust soon.

It must have shown on his face because Miroku's eyes darted over to him. "Are you okay?" he asked.

Inuyasha scoffed. "I'm not the one who spent the night playing practice dummy. How about you worry about yourself instead."

Closing his eyes again, Miroku laughed softly, though the motion made his expression contort in pain again and he stopped. "So you were concerned..."

"What was that?"

"I'm just surprised," Miroku continued, turning his head to look at Inuyasha. The smile on his face was sincere but drawn in tiredness. "You don't usually allow yourself to show it, but I knew your tough act was a front all along."

Cautious not to hurt him, Inuyasha put his hand on Miroku's face and pushed it away. "How about you fucking go to sleep or something?"

Once more Miroku laughed at him but listened and closed his eyes. His breathing was uneven and Inuyasha suspected he was in too much pain to sleep in earnest, but just lying still would already do him some good. The only downside being it left Inuyasha alone with his thoughts.

Guilt was on his mind. It wasn't the most unfamiliar sensation – though he had spent plenty of time learning to stubbornly put it down whenever it popped up over the years. Inuyasha could remember feeling guilty for being born and all the trouble that caused his mother, but that hadn't prevented her from dying. Regret didn't serve anyone.

Swallowing away the bitterness in his throat, he did his best to relax his shoulders and not sit there as if he were a prey animal about to be pounced on. Miroku wasn't prone to keeping himself safe, it wasn't like just traveling with him had been the only reason he got hurt.

Everybody around him always got hurt. Maybe he was just starting to believe that.

"Inuyasha...?" Miroku's voice pulled him out of his brooding.

"What?"

"Thank you for saving me."

If he could get away with it, Inuyasha really would have liked to bury his face in his hands. As it was he just huffed, turning around to watch the river. "Shut up-" he said. "They'll be here soon." The water was flowing in gentle ripples, almost captivating to look at.

But if hearing those words somehow eased the tight nervous constricting of his chest then he wasn't going to mention it.

**Author's Note:**

> Requested by Zeke on [my Tumblr](http://sharada-n.tumblr.com/). Doubles as their Birthday gift. Love your dear!


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